


Coming Home

by Beezarre



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22546645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beezarre/pseuds/Beezarre
Summary: A short glimpse into the night that followed Bernie’s return from Kiev.M-rated, but mostly full of softness and feelings.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 8
Kudos: 102





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a PWP. A very soft P, seeing as the riskiest word is breast and they keep their knickers on, but still.
> 
> For Daisydoctor13, I hope your exam from hell went alright!

They were panting as they reached the bedroom, the door closing behind them as they moved forward. They had started kissing as they'd passed the front door and not quite stopped, shedding garment after garment until all that was left was their bras, knickers, and one of Bernie's socks which was quickly discarded thereafter.

Serena had turned the light on out of habit, most of their trail of clothes discarded in the dark so far. The light wasn’t crude but forced them to pause. They were out of breath, still, eyes never leaving the other’s face despite all there was to explore. 

As Serena dove in Bernie’s eyes all she could see was care, the lust and frenzy had stepped aside, clearing the way for the feelings Bernie struggled to voice. This, this was the next step, not the kissing in the office, not the mock strip tease in the stairs. This, this was just them. This was new and yet already felt achingly familiar.

Bernie moved slightly and Serena leaned against the wall behind her, her brain over-thinking the fact she was over-thinking. Yes, Bernie's sports bra would require some help to get it out of the way, yes she'd thought of the nice blouse but hadn't coordinated her underwear. But none of it mattered, not when Bernie was looking at her like that. Because Bernie didn't care about anything but her, and when she did it was overwhelming.

Bernie initiated the next kiss, gentler this time, slower. From this point on, it was about discovery, about the freedom of caressing vast expanses of skin in more than just fantasies. This was real, this was...

Serena felt Bernie slow down further, her hands on her waist, her eyes asking for permission, and all Serena could do was say 'you first', except the words never passed her lips, only mouthed in a still laboured breath, but Bernie understood.

They worked together, and for the umpteenth time Serena's brain provided her with a rather unhelpful thought: "You don't deserve her." Maybe she didn't, surely she didn't, but as she saw Bernie, standing so close, offered, fervent, all she wanted was to make this moment last. Ignoring Bernie's scar, the one that could have undone everything before it had even started, she explored, lightly. Bernie's hands were back on her waist, travelling up her back, her lips on Serena's pulse point.

As Bernie got rid of her bra, their skin meeting in more and more places as Bernie stepped closer, Serena felt a shiver run down her spine, moaning in the kiss Bernie started then deepened, even slower than before. There was no rush now, nothing to stand between them but their own doubts. And knickers. But they were happy as they were, for now, hands exploring gently, Bernie's lips changing course, letting Serena breathe and stealing her breath away as she left a trail of kisses from that spot behind her ear to her shoulder, and back.

"Bernie, god." This time the words had made it out, more of a note to herself than a statement, still she felt Bernie's smile against her skin and retaliated by a thumb brushing against one of Bernie's breasts, earning a very low growl and a small bite, immediately kissed better.

Was this Bernie's idea of foreplay, or was this just a way to reassure her, that this, however new, would be okay? 

Serena was okay with slow, she found. As much as she would generally be game for vigorous passion, this was different, this was her best friend, the one person who finished the sentences she didn't dare start. This was Bernie, infuriating, caring, and, as it appeared, very good with her mouth for someone who struggled with words.

This, Serena realised, was a woman who couldn't say the words but would endeavour to make love to her for as long as she'd let her. Because this was what this was, no less. Had a lover ever held her like this? Maybe. With this intent? ... Never. Never like Bernie did, their height difference a good excuse for Serena to trace Bernie's collarbones, their different body type only seeming to make them mold more easily into one another. Serena bit her lip as Bernie reached her pulse point again, letting out a small moan, Bernie looking up, eyes dark, playful, calm yet restrained.

Serena knew, knew Bernie had to be as aroused as she was, knew trying to slot a thigh between hers would be their downfall, if only because they risked toppling to the floor from lack of balance which might lead to injuries that would be difficult to explain the next day.

She knew Bernie knew, knew Bernie held back even as she cupped one of Serena's breasts, kissing the side of her head this time, somehow heightening the intimacy of the moment. They were loath to part, content to enjoy this new development, yet ready to move forward.

Serena felt Bernie shift, a slight change, a delicious friction, and a hand, steady and still, for now, near her hip. They exchanged kisses, small slow ones, an agreement as Bernie moved slowly. She stopped again when she reached the edge of Serena's knickers. Was her idea to remove them, or plain ignore them? She shot Bernie a questioning look, her body arching slightly as assent regardless of what the plan was.

Bernie, it seemed, was going for the quicker solution, the tip of her fingers making their way past the edge of her underwear excruciatingly slowly. Serena wasn't sure whether Bernie was doing it for her benefit or was voluntarily teasing, but at this stage she knew she wasn't coherent enough to form a question, let alone ask it. Serena tensed when Bernie met coarse hair and Bernie immediately stopped but Serena kissed her, as a way to silence her own insecurities, and Bernie got the message, proceeding further down until Serena let her head fall backward, hitting the wall with a small thud and a wince that earned her a gentle kiss on her jaw.

Bernie had found it, Serena knew, the proof if she still needed any that Serena wanted this, wanted her, and god did Bernie find plenty at the tip of her fingers.

"Serena..." Bernie sounded breathless, intent on remaining where she was, barely within reach... "Let me?" Serena met her eyes, a reverence there that stole her breath away. All she could do was nod, their lips meeting again just as Bernie moved her fingers. Serena closed her eyes and moaned, losing herself in the feeling, trying to mirror Bernie's position only for Bernie to stop again.

"Just you." It wasn't an order, more of a plea and Serena didn't have it in her to say no to those puppy eyes. Instead, she braced herself, unsure how long her legs would bear what Bernie had in mind.

Bernie was holding her, and touching her in a way that shouldn't have felt so damn good, not so little, not like this, but it was Bernie so of course... She continued her exploration, slowly still, moving to get a better angle, asking permission for one finger, two, testing the waters, as it were. Serena let out a sob, burying her face in Bernie's neck, feeling her lover kiss the side of her head again with a tenderness that belied the teasing. Because this was it, the delicate balance between best friend and lover had tipped and for Serena it was a free fall.

She could feel it build up, could start seeing stars. Bernie was whispering in her ear soft spoken words of praise, and her name, again and again, like a prayer to a new goddess. Serena had never felt worshipped before, not like this, and tears were pricking her eyes. She was close, yet felt suspended in time, this was their time, hers, for now. She would make sure Bernie had her turn, turns, make sure to give as good as she got. They were equals, after all.

For now she did what she'd never really stopped doing, trust Bernie, heart, body, and soul, with the body being the newest addition. She was all around her, her smell, warmth, and softness a home. Tonight, she, too, was coming home.


End file.
